When I was a teenager and a young 20-something, I was pretty heavy into horror movies. I will still watch any of the "Scream" Trilogy to this day. However, with the addition of a child to my life, getting older, and taking a husband who will not watch horror movies, my tolerance for them has lessened. Now, only at Halloween time do I make a dalliance into the horror genre. I'm just that into holidays, so sue me. I also have fake spider web draped across my bar.
As I get older, and the age of the actors in horror movies stays the same, I find them difficult to watch because it makes me scared for my child to leave the house. As if the news isn't effective enough at achieving that end. All the horror movies I have watched in my day have caused me to have the following hang-ups:
1. I can't get into my vehicle alone at night without turning on all the interior lights and checking every crevice to make sure a psycho killer with a knife hasn't somehow sneaked his/her/its way into my locked car and is waiting patiently for my arrival so they can stab me through the seat/slice my throat/chloroform me so they can torture me in a remote location before slashing me. Not to mention, the sound of my own footsteps at night always makes me think that someone is right behind me.
2. My husband can't understand why I lock the bathroom door when we are home alone and I am taking a shower. Well, because I've seen Psycho, and locking the door is the only thing I find that will allow me to relax enough to bathe properly without worrying that after I wash my face and open my eyes, some loon dressed as his dead mother will be standing there waiting to bleed me down the shower drain. That's a reasonable concern, right?
3. I am not able to sleep in a room with an open closet door. And it isn't good enough to get up in the dark to shut the door. Oh, no! The light must be turned back on, the closet fully inspected (clothes beaten, moved aside, etc), door shut, light off, back in bed. And then I'm still going to panic a little.
4. Anytime my son talks about anything that even sounds like an imaginary friend, I get totally scared for my baby. Yes, I am occasionally worried that some evil demon may try to possess my sweet boy, or that he's seeing things that I can't. Sixth Sense, anyone?
And you thought I was kidding when I said I was afraid of the dark...
So, my boss and everyone else at work is all into horror movies. They think me seriously deprived because I haven't seen Saw. Or Saw II. Or have any desire to see Saw III. First of all, when you talk about those movies, you have to say "Did you see Saw?" And the see-saw part of that throws me. I used to see-saw, sure. Secondly, I gain no joy level by watching people die grotesque deaths. It horrifies me, fittingly enough. And I don't want to invite horror to imprint itself upon my brain. I haven't seen The Grudge, The Exorcism of Emily Rose, Hostel, Silent Hill, The Hills Have Eyes, or Glitter.
I don't like being scared, basically. The whole adrenaline rush of being young and scared has passed through and out of my life. And, really, there are more worthy things to be horrified by. Children orphaned by AIDS in Africa, for example. Genocide, war, North Korea having nuclear capabilites, education standards in Alabama...
But, in keeping with the season, I borrowed a little film called "Wolf Creek" from my boss and did my level best to watch it Wednesday. Brad came in about the time I started watching and he sat down to try to suffer through it for me. It began innocently enough, as usual. Pretty Girl 1, Pretty Girl 2, and Pretty Boy (whom both Pretty Girls fancy) are driving across the Australian Outback, for some God-forsaken reason. Along the way is this giant crater called "Wolf Creek." I guess creek means something different to Aussies. The three corpses-waiting-to-happen get out of the car, high from the monster joint they just smoked and stretching, laughing and chasing each other around. They scale the crater, go down into it, smoke another joint, and generally celebrate their youth, beauty and altered state of mind. When it's time to get on with their journey to wherever the hell it was they were going in the first place, lo and behold, all watches have stopped and the car won't start. Whodathunkit?
Pretty Girls 1 and 2 soon discover that while Pretty Boy might be able to tell them the best self-tanner to use, he's useless when it comes to fixing a car. This was their first mistake. Everyone knows you don't road trip across the Outback with a man who can't tell a spark plug from a lugnut. Mistake Two: deciding to wait the night in the car, hoping someone will come along to rescue their stupid behinds. Because, you already know some crazy bushman is going to be the closest thing to a white knight you're likely to come across in the Official Freaking Geographical Middle of Nowhere. And you would be right.
Bushman arrives acting like he's a bit strung out. But the three geniuses find him entertaining and helpful. Bushman offers to repair the car, of course, but it'll have to wait till morning. They set up camp, everyone's sitting 'round the fire, having a chuckle and a drink that Bushman made. Duh.
Pretty Girl 1 awakens to find herself gagged, bound at the wrists and feet, and all alone. Quickly, she unties the gag. She rolls about on the grungy shed floor, bemoaning her unfortunate luck. Her eyes land on a shard of glass. She picks it up and starts sawing at the plastic wire tie around her wrists. When she frees her hands, she gets to work on her feet. Stepping out of the shed, she sees no one around. The car that was supposed to be repaired at this point is sitting under a lean-to with the engine completely disassembled on the ground. No hope, there! Unflappable, #1 dashes around the yard barefoot, looking for a way out. She finds a pair of boots and slips them on. As #1 is about to make her big break, she hears #2 scream!
#1 trips the light fantastic back across the mudhole of a yard to find #2 in a completely different shed, bloodied, tied to a pole and begging for her life.
At this point, Brad goes berserk. He tells me to turn it off, turn it off, you're a sick bitch, I don't want to watch that little girl get shot by that freak, what is wrong with you? This was unnecessary, really, as I was getting a little pissed with the movie, myself. But, it was time to drag out our well-worn arguement:
Brad--That's just sick! Why do you want to commit those images to your memory?
Betsy--I don't! But you can't tell me you don't have any desire to know what happens to that girl!
Brad--I can already tell you! She gets killed, then the other girl gets killed, and dude's already dead!
Betsy--OK, I don't really crave watching people die, but how is it that you always come off on me about horror movies, when you watch executions all the time on the History Channel, and frankly I think that's worse, cause those are real!
Brad--Well, fine...turn it back on, and let's see these girls get slaughtered, you sicko.
I decide to look through the scene selection, to see if our heroes actually make into some of the future scenes. All three are in scenes up till the very last scene.
Feeling smugly justified (and for what reason? I dunno), I turn the movie back on and wait for #1 to rescue #2, find Pretty (but useless) Boy and get the hell on with it. I was sorely disappointed. #1 DID rescue #2. She even shot Bushman in the neck. But, then...typical...the gun jams and girly doesn't know how to fix it, so she can't finish him off with the gun. She raises the gun over her head, and I'm getting all like "Yeah, you go, girl!", and then she brings the butt of the gun down on Bushman's back. HIS BACK! WTF? Smash his skull, you ding-dong! You even have on boots! Finish him! What a moron. I now feel like maybe this broad deserves to die to remove her dumb ass from the procreating population.
So, I won't go into any of the fine details, just suffice it to say that all of their efforts were for naught. After #1 and #2 meet their end, I turn the movie off, cause I really don't want to see anymore what happens to Pretty Boy. Depressing. Freddy Krueger was more fun. I want to see at least one person survive. And not the Bushman. Sigh...
Does anyone know of a horror movie that won't totally depress me? Something that's fun and scary and Halloween-ish, but not completely stupid and unjust? Do they even make horror movies like that anymore? I've seen all the Scary Movies. Number 4 was rubbish. Guess I just need to settle down with a good thriller, or maybe revisit Sidney, Gale and Dewey. I like the mind games, not the gore.
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